


Not the worst mistake I've made

by BlooBlu



Series: Crime doesn't usually mean love [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Breaking and Entering, Child Abandonment, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Use, Homelessness, Moving, Poor Life Choices, Poverty, Protective Siblings, Swearing, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22447093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlooBlu/pseuds/BlooBlu
Summary: Deceit's life in a nutshell, or at least the important parts. Yeah, maybe he's wasted a lot of his life so far being drunk or high, but... well at least he's doing better, if not for his own sake. Who knew adopting stray children could make you more responsible?
Series: Crime doesn't usually mean love [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584493
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	Not the worst mistake I've made

A deep breath, in and out. Casual. Practiced. Timed almost exactly right. 

"My name… is Nathan Lundin."

Another, and three more before he speaks again.

"I have two beautiful sons, and I will do everything I can for them."

 _It's important,_ he reminds himself. You have to practice the truth, sometimes, so that you can remember how to. He needs to remind himself what the truth _is_ , too. Otherwise he'll get caught up in everything he's ever said and wonder which words were correct. Which ones were misinformed. Which ones were intentionally wrong.

"I am twenty-eight, born February 3rd, 1992 to a poor woman named Marceline and I don't know my father."

Even painful truths have to be remembered. He has so few left that he can't be picky, afterall.

"And I am in love with a man who could ask me to do almost anything, and I would."

Logan William Berry. Handsome and intelligent, kind but unintrusive. Always giving and taking back so little. Always there to listen, and be a friend. 

He could be selfish, and ask for more. He could be so selfish, and let himself be at the mercy of another person. It's not just him now, though. He was reckless and stupid in his youth, when there was no one he could hurt but himself. Waking up at 3am in an alley, still high or wasted, that was on him. That was his pain to bear.

But now? Now, that would mean leaving two children alone all night, unable to care for themselves and perhaps without a father at all if he fucked up bad enough. It would be leaving his best friend in the world wondering why he didn't see what was wrong, wondering why Deceit didn't think he could ask for help. Logan would be hurt, Patton would cry, Roman would be angry and… god, when had he become so selfishly attached to so many people?

6 months ago he could count the people who he cared for on one hand, and now the number of people who actually give a shit about _him_ was over half a dozen. Virgil, Remus, Logan, Patton, Roman, Emile, Remy… 

"I used to have a pack of stray dogs for pets…"

. . .

**Hamtramck, Michigan, December 2014**

"Get outta here, last call means _last call,_ dumbass!"

"Oh ssshutt UP! I'm going, _I'm going!_ "

Fuck it's cold! There's no way it's allowed to be this cold! He's wearing _six layers,_ and had enough old fashioneds to fill a carton of milk!

Stumbling home drunk isn't exactly new, to Nathan. Nor is being alone in the middle of the night, but he lives alone so go figure. He's pretty sure it's just three blocks away, now. One left turn just up this way… or is it straight, and then a left? Fuck it, he'll get there when he gets there.

~~achoo~~

…what? Who the hell is out- out there sneezing in an _alley?_ That's so _dumb_. But does he care enough to go check it out? Certainly inebriated enough not to care if he gets stabbed or somethin'.

 ~~achoo, achoo  
"Shh, shh! Know it's cold, shh!"~~

Okay. Well that _definitely_ sounded like a child, so he is definitely gonna go look now. Little fuckers are probably lost. Not that he could help with that, but he could help them find a real adult that can.

"He,, heyy. Hi there? There's- you… you guys lost? I'm pretty sure that you're real. Do you need- uhm. Help..?"

Some shuffling noises, and the crunch of snow under feet. Soft crunches though. Tiny feet, for sure. Is he being creepy? He's a drunk adult talking at kids in an alley. 

~~"shh, shh! Maybe help? You stop cry if we get help? Big people have food, they help so you no cry?"~~

"Uh, yeah! I can- if you guys are hungry I could probably.. get you something. Don't you have like, parents who'll feed you, though? I could just help you find them..?"

"No! No 'rents. Just us. You have food? Baby keeps crying so he's hungry too, I think. I'd cry too, if I thought it'd get me food.."

Ah. Little street urchins, then. Well, he's like two steps above being homeless himself, why not give to the needy, huh? He'll probably die soon anyways. An' he's always either too drunk or too hungover to keep food down. 

"Yeah, uh- I can't like, cook but… I think McDonald's is still open? It's like, right down the street… you said there's a baby? Jesus."

"Yeah! Baby, baby! I foun' him so he's my brother! You get him food too?"

Nathan could now see a small child approaching. Very small indeed. Carrying an even smaller baby. Well, more like a toddler. 

"Yeah, sure. If he can't eat chicken nuggets we'll get formula or some shit at CVS. Oh, wait wait. Don't say shit, k? Bad word. You're a kid."

"Shit? Okay I won', if you get us food!!"

"Alright, then, c'mere. I should probably carry that baby for you."

"No!!! My brother, I hold! I hold!"

"...you're the boss, little dude. You have a name? What about your uh.. brother?"

"I'm Remus, but I dunno baby's name. He was in a box that said somethin' with a V. V-whatever's books. I'm just calling him baby, though."

"....Virgil's bookstore? The place that closed like, a month ago?"

"I dunno, I can't read good. Maybe. That's a fun name though, Virgil."

"Then why don't we call him Virgil? It's a good a name as any, really."

The boy -Remus- stared down at the toddler's face. He was holding him kind of like a baby should be held, so it was easy to see the kid's face. 

"What do you think, baby? Virgil sound good? Huh?"

 ~~achoo~~

Remus turned to look at Nathan seriously. 

"Sneezes mean yes. His name is Virgil now."

"....okay, then. We should probably get you two inside. It's freezing out here."

"Enough to freeze your dick off???"

" _Where did you learn that!?_

. . .

**Hamtramck, Michigan, January 2015**

So, taking two very small children off the street wasn't exactly his goal to start with, but here he is. He will at least admit that they were cute once they weren't completely starving and had a bath. They'd even forced him to become a little more productive!

There was still cabinets full of liquor and a drawer full of molly, but they were child proofed and hadn't been touched a lot in the past month. He'd cleaned up what he could of the apartment, picked 7 wallets in one day to buy a tiny mattress that Remus could use, and even made a clever little crib for Virgil with a lot of cardboard, ducktape, and tears.

Unopened cans of beans and questionable meat were replaced with baby food, milk with chocolate milk, and he was trying to learn how to cook. Because maybe _he_ could live on two sandwiches a week and some whiskey, but the kids still needed to grow a bit. So maybe he had a few more punches to the face than usual because he was a bit rusty, but at least he hadn't been arrested. You'd think the vilitalgo would be a dead giveaway, but whatever.

In the past week, Nathan had made 3 decent pots of mac and cheese, microwaved those Salisbury steaks to perfection, and poured 6 bowls of cereal without spilling (a lot of) milk.

So maybe he was using taking care of these kids as a way to pretend he matters. So what? To these kids, he's a fucking god. Remus never looks happier than when he's eating or having a silly bedtime story from google being read to him, and Virgil is actually quite the conversationalist once you're fluent in babbles and hand-clapping. Both kids were pretty behind in the education and speaking department, according to magazine he'd been reading for new mothers. But it's not like his highschool-dropout ass would be able to do much about that, so he would just try to get them into public schooling when he got ahold of a decent forged medical record for them and nicer clothes. 

Another thing about kids! They are perfect distractions, anywhere! Remus would go sit on a bench and cry for a few minutes until Nathan came along and pretended to be a worried-sick dad, and they'd come home with a dozen nice watches and small purses. Remus didn't seem to understand or care about the ethics of the situation, Nathan hadn't cared in years, and Virgil was always too busy with a pacifier.

"Hey Nate- Nate, what's for dinner tonight??"

"Well it's mostly ramen, but I was thinking about putting some fries in the oven to go with. What do you think?"

"Fries!!! Fries yes! Let's make fries!"

…adorable. He's never going to get tired of that little face, never. Even if he doesn't really know why he cares so much about the little brats, he loves them already. It's like seeing a little purebred Shiba Inu. Sure, it's gonna put you thousands in debt, but it's cute as fuck and you'd die to take care of it.

"Okay, think you can grab them from the freezer? Remember where the step-stool is?"

"Yeah, yeah! I can do it!!"

. . . 

**Hamtramck, Michigan, April 2015**

"Hey, I don't think I ever asked… how old are you, Remus? Do you know about Virgil?"

"I'm… uhhh.. 24? June 24?"

"You're birthday is on June 24th?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know what year you were born?"

"...8?"

"2008?"

"Mhm."

"So you're… six. You're six years old."

"If you say so."

"What about Virgil? Did he come with… I dunno, a tag or something?"

At that, Remus ran out of the room and back to where his and Virgil's beds were. Nathan could hear the rustling of papers and what he assumed was Remus's jacket. It was basically the only thing he had had on the streets, a little green thing with tons of pockets full of garbage and small toys.

Suddenly he ran back with a folded piece of paper. It was yellowed and crinkled, but was obviously something important, to even still be intact with Remus. When it was unfolded, Nathan could tell it was a birth certificate, but half of it was unreadable. Under birthdate, he could just make out "December, … 2012."

"Okay… so Virgil is two, it looks like. What day do you think his birthday should be, huh?"

"I dunno. Does it matter?"

"I guess not. How about… I met you guys on the 19th, I think. His birthday can be the 19th. Damn, I guess I need to start planning birthday parties now."

"What's a birthday party for? Why is there a party?"

"Uh, to celebrate a whole year of not dying, I guess. Birthday parties celebrate the day you were born. It's mostly just an excuse to eat cake and get presents."

" _cake!?!?!_ Can I have all the birthday parties, Nate please??"

"Nah, you only get one… but we'll make your birthday extra special when it happens, okay? A really big cake, just for you."

"YES!"

. . .

**Southfield, Michigan, August 2017**

"Hey, Dee? Why are we movin', again? I like our home."

"I do too, Remus. But that city… wasn't a very nice one. I want you to go to a nice school, so we need to live somewhere nicer."

"...Okay. Why do I have to have school though? You can teach me lots, you already taught me how to make a omelette!"

"Yeah, I can teach you some stuff, Remus, but if you're ever going to get a real job, you need to go to school."

"I already have a job! You and me, we-"

"That is _not_ a job, Remus. That's something I do because I don't _have_ a job, and need to feed you and Virgil."

The bundle in his arms stirred at this.

"...name? Say my name? Dee-dee we there yet?"

"Shh, shh, no Vee, we aren't there yet. You need to rest, I'll wake you up when we get there."

Kids can be a handful, especially once they learn to walk and talk, but sick kids are even more so. His left arm was partially numb from carrying Virgil all morning - poor guy had a cold and wasn't taking to it well. It's not like it was a far distance to Southfield, exactly, but he didn't have a car and the busses were awful today. The mattresses and some larger appliances he handled when, thankfully, he was able to pay his neighbor with a truck to drive things over to their new apartment. The rest was packed into a few bags he and Remus carried, and carrying three packs and a thirty-five pound child did not make for a pleasant ride, even if there hadn't been five delays and no places to sit.

Eventually, they got where they were supposed to be and it was just one flight of stairs to their new home. It wasn't as bad as their last place, though that would be true of almost anywhere outside of Hamtramck. Not a lot of cracks in the plaster, bugs weren't usually bigger than an m&m, and the fridge won't turn off randomly. (Probably.)

Though he could have made do in most places, this was nice. The main reason they were here was because Deceit (and wasn't that a funny thing? New year, new me, new name, apparently) had taught Remus about as much vocabulary and math and weird science facts as he could remember, so it was time for Remus to get professional education.

So maybe trying to teach a ten year old eleven years of schooling in two years wasn't a great idea, but hey! School might have changed in the eight years since Deceit had been, he wanted to give Remus every piece of knowledge he could to prepare him! And Remus had taken to most of it pretty well, anyways. His boys were smart and creative, and everyone was going to see that on Wednesday! His son's first day of 4th grade… 

_Don't fucking cry, Deceit. You're better than this._

**Southfield, Michigan, December 2017**

He doesn't know why other parents these days have to be so stupid.

'Oh, your kid punched my kid in the face, you need to get a hold of him, even though my kid was hitting him first!"

 _Fuck you_ , Karen. And fuck your little pigtailed demon child! 

"Dee, am I… am in trouble? Sam. was just being so mean, and she kept kicking me and pulling at my hair-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Remus. No, you aren't in trouble. In fact, we're getting doughnuts right now because that girl was a bitch- don't say that in front of other people, okay?- and you didn't do anything wrong. You defended yourself when someone was hurting you. Those other adults are just stupid because they think girls can't hurt boys."

"But… that's dumb! What about Black Widow??? She kicks ass all the time!"

"Damn right she does."

**Southfield, Michigan, November 2019**

Deceit doesn't have a whole lot of friends in this world. It's just not easy to maintain that kind of shared relationship when he cares so little for most people. 

But Quill, Quill is a good friend. She's fun, reliable, and likes Remus and Virgil. He wouldn't call her his best friend or anything, but she's fun to get a drink with on the weekends and laugh at meaningless things. 

So, when Quill was pissed about her car getting keyed, and knew who did it but couldn't prove it to the police, Deceit know what he had to do. Of course, Jillian Hargreeves was a woman of habit, and after just a week of following her around it was easy to see where he should strike.

She worked at a local Walmart, was a manager, in fact. Had her own little office… full of important documents… and her purse. He hasn't made a stink bomb in years, but he still remembers the basics; so the second that she opens her bag, (and her car door) Deceit has assured that every inch of space possible will be covered in the nastiest looking slime ever made, and not even bathing in bleach will erase the smell for several days.

Now it's just a matter of escape. He knows there are some ways out through the back storage, so he tries there first. It really isn't that big of a room, the ceiling is just high up because trucks have to be able to back up inside through a garage door. 

Unfortunately every door he tries is locked, so a window it is. Climbing up to one isn't super hard, but leaving out the other side might be a bit of a chore-

And someone just slammed the door open. Wonderful. Amazing. Had they seen him? No, no of course not, he was careful, but there was nothing stopping them from looking up now, it was just one guy though! One skinny guy that probably just came for a smoke break- 

“Are you here to commit a theft, or any other misdemeanors or felonies?”

…shit.


End file.
